


Guard Dog

by brokenbabyvulture



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, F/F, Guro, Kidnapping, No One Is Okay, Non-Consensual Bondage, Vivisection, Yandere!Tracer, but i couldnt help myself, im so sorry, just a bit, meme reference, prior relationship, yes it kills the mood of the scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 19:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14339256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenbabyvulture/pseuds/brokenbabyvulture
Summary: “Hey Lena, do these drinks feel strong to you?”“Oh no, that would just be yours,” Lena replied nonchalantly.“What do you mean?”“I roofied your drink while you were in the bathroom.” Lena took a sip of her own drink while she watched the terror grow in the other woman’s face.“What?! Why?!” Amélie started to panic as her vision began to go black at the edges.“Love, just relax or you’re going to hurt yourself.” Lena tried to take Amélie’s hand, but it was snatched away. “You’ll be out in a minute or two.”“What the hell d-do you want… with me? You… f-fucking psychopath!” Amélie tried to scream as she felt herself slipping out of consciousness, but the sound caught in her throat.“Hush my love. No worries now.”





	Guard Dog

**Author's Note:**

> This is super short but I needed more yandere!Tracer in my life

No one would deny that whatever Lena thought of the French assassin, it was something powerful. However, what people did debate was what to call it. It didn’t quite fit the common definition of “love.” The two could only rarely be found apart, but this had more to do with the fact that Lena could effectively teleport than Amélie wanting her around. No doubt, Amélie was fond of the British girl, but she was a solitary person, and with Lena tagging along everywhere, it was difficult to feel safe sometimes. 

Amélie could recall a time when she was awoken in the middle of the night to find Lena sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her like a cat. The sniper, battle hardened as she was, was rightfully startled by this, and spent the next three hours trying to get Lena to leave, while protecting the safety of everyone else in her apartment building. While unsuccessful, she did convince her to at least lay in bed, instead of sitting and staring like a vulture. 

Amélie had known the younger woman for years, first as enemies, then as friends, and occasionally lovers. Amélie was never one for committed romantic relations. She knew the capabilities of the tiny Brit. Her innocuous build failed to denote her physical strength and skill with a pistol or a knife, both of which Amélie had seen in action. She told her military acquaintances, “You haven’t experienced fear until you’ve seen an angry British lesbian with a dagger and a target.” They laughed, as she chuckled along with, but Lena’s ferocity was no joke. 

Amélie was on her way to meet her leather-clad girl for drinks on one of their off weekends. It was a rare occurrence for their schedules to match up, so they did their best to take advantage. There was a quiet tavern that Windowmaker loved near her house, so that was their go-to spot. She was surprised to find, however, that Lena wasn’t there. She was rarely late to anything. Though she could be flighty, she insisted, “the cavalry must always be on time.” Amélie decided she would wait outside for a couple minutes, but the smaller girl appeared only seconds after she did. 

“Where did you come from? I thought you would be late.”

“The cavalry is never late, love. I followed you here to keep an eye on you.” She grinned widely. “Can’t have you picked off by street thugs, now can we?”

Amélie sighed, defeated. “You didn’t need to do that, cheri.”

The smile fell from Lena’s face. “What if someone else hurt you? Or you got held up? Or met someone else? Someone has to keep you safe.”

Amélie wanted to tell her that she could take care of herself, but she knew it was safer to not fight back. “Yes, you’re right. Thank you darling.” She gave the shorter woman a kiss on the back of her hand. “Ready?”  
Lena nodded excitedly. 

Amélie was ready to keep her guard up. Lena was unpredictable at the best of times, and she seemed especially “excited” tonight. 

They made it inside and ordered drinks and sat talking about work that week, Widow’s particularly evasive target, or Lena’s problems with the higher-ups at Overwatch. They were having fun, just talking and relaxing together. Amélie didn’t drink often, so she was a bit of a lightweight. She could feel herself getting sluggish after her second drink, but even for her, that felt fairly fast. 

“Hey Lena, do these drinks feel strong to you?”

“Oh no, that would just be yours,” Lena replied nonchalantly.

“What do you mean?”

“I roofied your drink while you were in the bathroom.” Lena took a sip of her own drink while she watched the terror grow in the other woman’s face. 

“What?! Why?!” Amélie started to panic as her vision began to go black at the edges. 

“Love, just relax or you’re going to hurt yourself.” Lena tried to take Amélie’s hand, but it was snatched away. “You’ll be out in a minute or two.”

“What the hell d-do you want… with me? You… f-fucking psychopath!” Amélie tried to scream as she felt herself slipping out of consciousness, but the sound caught in her throat. 

“Hush my love. No worries now.” 

When she came back to her body, Amélie felt coarse rope on her wrists and ankles, suspended with her arms above her head, stripped of her protective leather jumpsuit and reduced to shorts and a sports bra. The sharp, sterile smell of chemicals mixing with damp earth and stone stung her nose. 

“There you are love. Good morning.” A cheery voice greeted Widow’s groggy mind as she tried to open her eyes. 

“What the fuck Lena?! I should’ve known you’d snap eventually. God dammit…” She hung her head in defeat. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Kill you,” Lena stated, as if it were obvious.

For the first time in years, the hardened, killer Amélie, honored and hated sniper, felt real fear. Fear for her life. 

“Wh…what did you say?”

“I said, I’m going to kill you.”

“WHY?!”

“To protect you. You don’t take care of yourself, you’re constantly in danger, and I can’t always be there to keep you safe. So I have to kill you.” She was toying with a large combat knife, obviously sharp, as it drew blood when she touched it to her skin. 

“Lena, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want, just please can we talk about this? Anything, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” Lena walked towards her captive, holding the knife threateningly. She pressed it gently against the soft skin of Widow’s midsection, just barely enough pressure to bite the flesh.  
Amélie nodded.

“Die.”

With a gentle smile, Lena dug the knife into Amélie’s guts and drug it through her flesh, lavender-tinted intestines and organs spilling out from the wound. Some fell to the floor, splattering the ground with crimson passion. Others hung out of the gaping maw, sloppy and dripping down Widow’s body. 

The former assassin screamed from the depths of what remained of her lungs, convulsing and spitting up blood in a violent last-ditch instinct for survival. Her efforts were fruitless, as her twitching only dug the knife deeper into the cavity in her body. 

Lena smiled blissfully at every moment. The blood splattering her clothes and face, her beloved’s shrieks and adorable attempts to escape. She held her prize by the cheek as she panted her final breaths. Lena placed a gentle kiss on her dying lips and felt the movement in the woman’s chest cease. She stepped back and admired the scene, wishing she could make the moment her only memory of the perfect woman. Alas, since Amélie was a living being, she had been imperfect. But now, finally, Lena could preserve as she knew she always should have been. Amélie was perfect in death, everything from the way her blood ran down her purple thighs to how her head hung limply. This was the only way Amélie deserved to exist: stagnant, perfect, and under the watchful protection of her loyal guardian, for the rest of eternity.


End file.
